


Save a Horse, Ride a...Well

by localtrashgoblin



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Domesticity, Drunken Shenanigans, Historical, M/M, Pining Crowley (Good Omens), Western, attempted horse riding, goofy boys in love, sorry for the sads i added another chapter to fix it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-15 03:55:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19287604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/localtrashgoblin/pseuds/localtrashgoblin
Summary: Crowley runs into Aziraphale while faffing about in the wild west. Drunkenness ensues.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I saw this art (https://twitter.com/T8oo_/status/1141069893061812225) on twitter, couldn't stop thinking about it all day, and wrote this fic as soon as I got home from work last night.

Crowley spotted Aziraphale almost as soon as he’d stepped through the swinging doors of the saloon. 

Sitting primly at a small table with his back to the room, the angel was dressed in his usual browns and creams, eating enough dinner for a normal human plus half. Smirking to himself, Crowley sauntered over, enjoying the click of his heels and the jangle of his spurs as he went.

"Well howdy, Angel"

Aziraphale looked up, startled expression quickly morphing into one of quiet joy as he turned and saw that it was Crowley. Which, well, a demon wouldn’t be worth his salt at all if he didn’t feel a small twist of pleasure at the thought of an  _ angel _ being pleased to see a  _ demon _ . Yes, that was it. Purely professional pleasure. 

"Hello, my dear boy," Aziraphale  said as Crowley took a seat. "It's been quite some time since our last run-in, hasn't it?"

"Oh, about 60 years or so." Crowley hummed, as if he didn't know that it had been exactly 60 years, 5 months, and eleven days. As if he didn't have a countdown clock in the back of his head that restarted every time he and the angel parted ways. 

“And what brings you all the way out here, to the frontier?” Aziraphale asked. He took on a playful tone. “I can’t imagine you’re here for the views alone.”

“Oh and you came just for the food, then?” Crowley teased back.

“Yes, well, I’ve been doing a bit of work on the way.” Aziraphale allowed, turning back to his food with a good natured smile. Everything about him was Good, Crowley lamented, but that smile was especially so.

“Oh, yes, I saw.” Crowley replied. And he had, feeling the angel’s specific brand of miracle in every church he passed and in each family that made it to their new home free of sickness or injury.

“Of course,” Aziraphale murmured “there’s not much for you to do out here is there? Not too many temptations to be had when there’s so few people.” 

“That’s where you’d be wrong angel, where there’s people, there’s opportunity for sin.” With this, Crowley flagged down the bartender, nodding at several of the bottles behind the bar. 

“What do you say Angel?” He smiled “Let’s get absolutely drunk.”

 

“What do you mean, you’ve never ridden a horse?” Crowley slurred, several hours and many many drinks later. “It’s the...it’s the WILD WEST, Aziraphale, everybody rides horses.” 

“Yes, well, not me.” Aziraphale replied, equally drunk. “I mean, really...can you even imagine it? Me. On a...on a horse. No, I think. I think not.” 

Of course, Crowley could absolutely picture it: Aziraphale wearing a cowboy hat, and chaps, sitting astride a magnificent white horse. He’d look like a hero from a penny novel--the dashing law man (angel) who would ride into town and stop sinners (Crowley) in their tracks. Crowley decided he absolutely needed to see Aziraphale on a horse. 

“Come on.” Crowley said, standing abruptly from the table and almost falling over. “We’re putting you on a horse.”

“What?” Aziraphale spluttered as Crowley tugged him from his chair.

“You’re gonna get on a, on a horse, angel.” Crowley insisted. He tugged the angel along, and they slowly made their drunken way out of the saloon.

“Whose horse?” Aziraphale asked, suddenly, while Crowley was trying to remember which way was left and which way was right.

“What?”   
“Whose horse, Crowley?”   
“Whose horse, what.” 

“Whose horse are you putting me in? On. Whose horse am I on?”

“I don’t know. Somebody’s. There’s a pasture just outside of town. Got some horses in it.”

And so they stumbled through town to the edge of the pasture, where indeed, two horses were grazing. Getting Aziraphale through the fence turned out to be an ordeal, as Crowley couldn’t stop laughing at the angel’s initial attempts at just hopping over it. Once they were on the right side of the fence and Aziraphale had stopped chiding Crowley for his manners, they turned to look at the horses. It was a clear night, and the full moon above illuminated the field in a quiet sort of way. As Aziraphale stepped up to one of the horses and cautiously patted it on the nose, Crowley observed the way the moonlight lit up the Angel’s hair. If he squinted a little, which he really shouldn’t because he was far to drunk for that, he could almost pretend that he could see the angel’s halo.

“owley....Crowley. Crowley!” Aziraphale was saying, trying to get his attention. “Crowley!”

“Hmm? What?” Crowley blinked, trying to get his brain back on track without sobering up too much.

“How am I s’posed to get on the horse? It’s far too bloody tall!” 

“I’ll boost you.”

“Boost me?”

“Boost you. Move over, angel.” Crowley sidled up to Aziraphale’s side, nudging him from the front of the horse to its side. He kneeled down, lacing his fingers together to form a step.

“Put your foot here,” he said, “and I’ll boost you up.”

Aziraphale gave him a dubious look, or at least as dubious a look as a thoroughly inebriated celestial being could manage, before putting one foot up and into the cradle of Crowley’s hands. He wobbled a bit, and braced himself with a hand on the demon’s shoulder. Crowley had to suppress a shudder at the feeling of the angel’s fingers so tight and warm upon him, even through the layers of his clothes. Aziraphale stepped up onto Crowley’s hands and put his other hand upon the horse’s flank. It neighed a little, understandably unhappy with this development, but too well trained to try to run or buck. 

“One, two, three!” Crowley counted. With a heave, the two of them managed to get the angel most of the way onto the horse.  Aziraphale landed with his stomach across the horse’s back, letting out a little “oof!” which Crowley found to be completely adorable. 

“Crowley, what now?” he wheezed.

“Get on the horse, angel.”

“I am on the horse.”

“Sit up, Aziraphale”

“How?”

“Oh, for  _ somewhere’s sake _ !” Crowley swore quietly as he put both his hands on the Angel’s rear-end and pushed. Aziraphale let out a squeak, lost his grip, and promptly fell off the other side of the horse. 

“Are you all right?” Crowley panicked, coming around the beast to get a better look at the angel.

“Yes, I’m quite fine, thank you.” Aziraphale huffed. “Help me up, would you?”

Crowley took his outstretched hand, pulling the angel to his feet. They were both still quite inebriated, however, so they ended up standing much closer to each other than would be considered polite. Crowley gulped, looking into the angel’s eyes. He realized he’d dropped his sunglasses at some point. Probably when he was laughing at Aziraphale trying to climb the fence. Neither of them said anything for a moment, each looking at the other. They were still holding hands. Crowley felt his face heat, wondering if finally this was the moment. Hundreds of years, thinking about how much he wanted to kiss Aziraphale. Wanting to kiss those lips, right there, so close to him at that moment. He began to lean in, slowly, keeping his eyes on the angel’s. 

Aziraphale placed his other hand on the demon’s chest, pushing him gently away. 

“I think it’s time to sober up, my friend.” Aziraphale said quietly, removing both hands from Crowley and clasping them together in front of himself. Crowley stepped away, breathing deeply as he miracled the alcohol out of his system.

“Yes, well,” Aziraphale said as he straightened out his clothes. “It was certainly good to see you again, old boy.” 

“Certainly.” Crowley muttered, fixing a new pair of sunglasses upon his face. The rejection, while not unexpected, still stung and he would rather not have the angel be able to see the hurt in his eyes. Aziraphale offered him another of his bright smiles.

“Until next time, Crowley.”

“Until next time, Aziraphale.” 

The angel walked away, back to town. 

Crowley stood there, watching him go. 

The countdown clock reset.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sweet moment some time after the end-of-the-world-that-wasn't

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt bad for the angst of that first chapter, so here's some domesticity and fluff! I wrote half of this on the bus to work yesterday, lol.

"Do you remember the west?" Aziraphale asked, apropos of nothing. 

They were lying in bed, in the little room above the book shop that they'd converted into a bedroom a few months after the Not-Apocalypse, wearing nothing but the thin top sheet. Crowley was draped over Aziraphale, running his nose softly up and down the column of the Angel's throat. He paused his ministrations and looked up with a smile. 

"The west is a very broad subject, Angel." He said. "You'll have to be more specific."

“ _ Really _ now,” Aziraphale chided. “I mean, do you remember that time we ran into each other in the West? We got very drunk in that little saloon.” 

Crowley did remember. “You fell off a horse,” he said with a chuckle.

“You pushed me off a horse.” Aziraphale huffed, irritated with the demon for laughing. Crowley silently apologised with a volley of kisses pressed into the soft skin of Aziraphale’s shoulder and collar bones.

“Did you know then?” Aziraphale asked, running his hands through Crowley’s hair.

 

This was a game--of sorts--that they liked to play now that they had finally laid bare their feelings for each other. Aziraphale would pick a time in their six thousand year history, ask ‘did you know then, too, that you loved me?’ And Crowley, every time would answer ‘yes angel, i knew since the very beginning.’

“I knew then, angel.” Crowley murmured, moving his kisses lower, skirting dangerously close to a nipple just to hear the way it made Aziraphale gasp.

“Why are you thinking about the west, though, at a time like this?” He asked.

“Well,” Aziraphale started. He blushed, and turned his gaze to the ceiling, his hands on the demon’s neck and shoulders going momentarily tense. “That is, well. I was just thinking about how handsome you looked then. With those boots with the...dangly bits on them.”   
“Spurs.”

“Yes, those. I just. I knew by then that what I felt for you wasn’t exactly the adversarial animosity that I was supposed to feel, but seeing you in that saloon looking like some kind of rogue anti-hero from a novel…” He trailed off, moving his hands from Crowley to fidget with the sheet, a blush rising in his cheeks.

“Go on, angel,” Crowley crooned, loving the embarrassed look on Aziraphale’s face. He leaned in and pressed a little kiss next to the angel’s ear. “I want to hear the ressst.” 

“Well, that was when I realized that I could have...physical reactions to things. In this body. I still wasn’t used to having a human form!” Aziraphale was starting to sound strained, like he was expecting Crowley to start laughing at him any moment. “And then when you were helping me get on that horse and you touched my  _ bottom _ and I just--!” 

Crowley did start laughing. “You got all hot and bothered for the first time in your human body, all because I put my hands on your arse to get you onto a horse?” He chortled.

“Well, you got rather a handful, didn’t you? Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it.” Aziraphale grumbled. He sat up, dislodging Crowley, and wrapped the sheet up around himself. 

“Angel, don’t be mad,” Crowley said, stretching himself out along the bed. He reached out a hand to run his fingers along a strip of skin that the sheet had failed to cover. He reveled in the way that it made Aziraphale shiver.

“To be quite honest, which I never am because I am a demon,” Crowley said, loving the way Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “I was so preoccupied with worrying that you’d hurt yourself that I didn’t even think about the fact that I had grabbed your arse at all.”

Aziraphale gave him a dubious look.

“I’m ssserious, angel.” Crowley insisted. “I was besotted with you; if I’d somehow caused you harm by being a drunken idiot, I would have been thoroughly disappointed with myself.”

Aziraphale smiled and leaned down to kiss Crowley soundly on the mouth.

“ _ Besotted _ , really?” He teased. Crowley just grunted and kissed Aziraphale a little harder.

“I’m not the one who was thinking about how handsome I look with spurs.” He muttered as Aziraphale scooted down the bed so that they were face to face on their sides.

“Well you wanted to see me on a horse,” the angel said. “Don’t tell me that came from pure intentions.”

“Oh, do shut up.”

Aziraphale simply laughed, his giggles peaking in volume as Crowley tackled him to the mattress and covered him with kisses.

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell about these good good boys with me on tumblr (@upsidedowngoblin)!


End file.
